


You were good to me, once upon a time.

by Wanhedawarrior



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Angst with a sad ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Callie Torres - Freeform, Calzona, F/F, F/M, GreysAnatomy, Grieving, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, References to Depression, breakdown - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:34:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28039260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanhedawarrior/pseuds/Wanhedawarrior
Summary: Callie Torres revisits some of the most painful and most beautiful times of her life, some of the times she wishes more than anything that she could forget. but she cant. and sometimes the bad times outweigh the good and there's nothing more to do, than cry.
Relationships: Addison Montgomery/Callie Torres, Arizona Robbins/Callie Torres, Erica Hahn/Callie Torres, Mark Sloan/Callie Torres
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	You were good to me, once upon a time.

**Author's Note:**

> this is based off of greys anatomy, loosely. I say this because the time between each incident may not be wrong, that's because I couldn't find the exact time between each event. It is also my take on how Callie (a character I adore) could handle these situations. of course she didn't act like this in the show but this isn't real!
> 
> please comment down below if you enjoy and leave kudos!

Seattle hadn’t always been home to the Orthopaedic Surgeon, in fact, it was only a couple of years ago that she had fled from her home town in Sunny Southern Florida and found some kind of solace within a small apartment complex in the middle of Seattle. Hidden away behind the newer wealthier buildings to hide the tragedy that was her building, covered in a thick green ivy that grew up the side of the brick, damp spots covering her ceiling disgustingly. She found it ironic, just a bit. She had fled a place she only could describe as hell and returned to the flames within a day of moving across the states. However, in a sense she was still glad she left Florida, the life style just wasn’t for her and if she was being completely honest, she was sick and tired of her family controlling her life like they were puppeteer’s and she was the helpless little Puppet being controlled on little strings. She had traded her wealthy life style and warm home for a cold house, she couldn’t call this place her home because it wasn’t, not yet at least. It was simply her house, she slept there occasionally and bathed there but it wasn’t warm like a home should be, she didn’t have anything she loved with her to make it a home, so therefore, to Callie, it was just a house. In her eyes a home was somewhere with people that adored every inch of your being, a place with warm blankets and the occasional embrace showing how much you loved each other. Instead, here. She had a house. She was still searching for her home. Well actually she thought she found her home within a certain blonde but now she wasn’t so sure. 

Callie still craved a kind of warmth that she had never felt before, even when her new born body was placed into her mother's shaky arms, warmth was nowhere to be found. Instead, her new born skin was greeted with nothing but coldness and regret. Regret for the little life the  woman had created, regret for the burden that had just been placed in  her arms. Callie felt like it was selfish of her to complain about the lack of motherly love she received as a child because it wasn’t like she didn’t have a mother; it was just that the mother she did have wasn’t exactly maternal. Her father loved her though, she was sure of that, deep down her father loved her. You could say her family was dysfunctional to say the least they weren't the type to show  their  emotion's and a warm embrace was something she only ever received from her Abuela and Abuelo on special occasions but it was those little moments that she treasured. It was those moments she missed so dearly when her grandparents passed weeks before her twentieth birthday. 

Still, the amount of  warmth the  young woman had found in Seattle did little to warm the deep sadness she felt in her bones, it didn't make her worries float away like she thought it would. But it did give her something to cling to when her world seemed to always crumble around her.  Her work gave her something to clutch to as she fell deeper into the terror that was now her life, she would grip as tightly as she could to the slight amount of happiness her work gave her  and  savour it as her life was being ripped away.  Her fellow employees that surrounded her on a daily gave her the small amount of love she craved, of course they did they were practically her family – but still she craved more. She deserved, more didn’t she?  As fears ran through her lungs and her heart ached for the love , she had never received she was still grateful, she was grateful for the hard couch that held her body at night; grateful for the harsh smelling liquor she would be given  at Joe’s  when tears sprung from her eyes after a hard shift. 

The young woman had a reputation to upkeep even though she left her wealthy life behind in Florida her family still made sure she kept her reputation and held her head up proud, but she wasn’t proud of it. Why would she be proud of coming from nothing but wealth, she didn’t exactly make her life on her own, she was given it, her father paid for med school and of course she was accepted, her father paid for tutors and extra lectures so it's not surprising that he also offered to pay Seattle grace hospital to accept her job offer – she was grateful that they didn’t accept the money, but they did accept her, for once it was for her talent and not because of her father's money. Each night when she closed her eyes the firm words from her father swirled in her mind like a painful tornado, she’s sure he meant it as words of wisdom but his words hurt her  ** ‘Blend in Calliope, don’t stand out’,  ** but as a Latina that was hard enough. She was always told to blend in, fit in with the crowd, don’t bring attention to yourself. Just be. Survive and do it quietly, be humble. Be smart. Be. Just be. But truth be told she yearned to stand out, she wanted to be different, she wanted people to notice her for who she was, for her talent. But instead, they recognised her for the amount of money her father had given her to fall back on in case she failed in following her dreams. 

So, she took her father's advice, she blended in, she survived. Barely, because what’s the point in living if all you're doing is surviving? but still she did as she was told, she worked and survived. She did, evidently so. But then she met George and slowly she let the man in, even though her heart was quietly pleading with her, silently begging for her not to let him in. She wishes now that she listened. You see, George built her up, he brightened up her life like a torch in the darkness but then he burnt it down. He set fire to her soul and watched as she burnt to dust, her hope and the happiness she had found within those mysterious eyes burnt with her. Oh, how she cursed George O'Malley. It was a cold night in September when Callie realized the  man, she had just married had cheated on her with a perfect spunky happy petite blonde – the girl deep down she wished she was, unfortunately though, she wasn’t. The man she started to trust had betrayed her, he had seen her at her worst and most vulnerable times and he betrayed her. 

Her life crumbled that night, so did her self-esteem – it was the night she gave in and locked the world out – locking herself in the security of her bathroom, salty pearls pouring down her cheeks as she plastered thick blue dye in her hair. Cursing everyone who had forced her to become this person over the course of her life; she cursed her mother for not loving her the way she wanted to be loved, she cursed her father for making her act the way she acted, cursed herself for allowing all the people that had ever hurt her into her life. She cursed everyone and everything. Her screams and sobs echoing through the thin walls of her apartment as she washed the blue dye out of her hair, hoping it would somehow wash away some of the pain she felt creeping into her bones like the cold winter air. But it didn’t, she was still sad. She wouldn’t admit it though, the next morning she had walked into work with that award winning fake smile on her face, her head held high until the thirty-eight-hour shift was over, until she slammed her apartment door shut and slowly sank against the door frame. Her body shaking as she finally let go, slamming her fists against the floor, sobbing like her life depended on it, her chest heaving for air but refusing to inhale, not deeming herself worthy to relieve the burning pain she felt in her lungs as she screamed out in sorrow. 

Her downfall began soon after her and George broke up officially, not only was she now the woman known for marrying an unfaithful man whore but she was more alone than she had ever felt before. The empty promises from her colleagues as they claimed to be there for her meant nothing, even though to their faces she smiled and said her thanks, however behind closed doors when she didn’t have to pretend – she knew they didn’t mean it, it was just a polite thing to say. They all said they would be here for her but, every night she returned to her cold apartment and laid there by herself. Wishing for the world to just go away, wishing for everything to stop. Just for a moment, just so she could breathe for once. But she knew she had to go on. Even if every cell in her body was telling her to just give up and let go off the rope and just stop climbing to a better future she would never get. Except for the fact, she did get that life eventually... Just for a little while. 

It was months after her and George separated when she decided to fake it until she made it, she was making it. Or so she thought. She had a promotion at work, despite having worked for it tirelessly for over a year it didn’t bring her happiness. It made her more tired, made her want to push herself further, further than she was physically capable of. She had also somewhere, somehow found the energy to decorate her apartment. It didn’t look bright and colourful as she couldn’t bring herself to pick a bright colour, she just didn’t feel bright she felt dull. So, her apartment matched her feelings, she spent a few days plastering dark grey paint all over her walls. It was oddly comforting, living in something that was as dark as she felt inside, it was obvious to Callie that she should be trying to cheer herself up, she should be trying to find happiness again but it seemed pointless and she felt unworthy, after all its what she heard someone say about her. That maybe if she had tried harder maybe George wouldn’t have slept with someone else. 

Which meant that, not only was she known as an ungrateful rich bitch but now she was unworthy, unworthy of love because of how she acted, because of how she looked. After all she wasn’t exactly Izzie steven's level pretty, was she? She heard the whispers, she heard everything everyone spoke about. The situation only made her sink further down and question herself further. Where did she go wrong? What did she do? Why was it always her fault? Why was she the one who seemed to be unworthy of having a happy ending?

It was like she took a step forward and then fell ten steps back, there was nothing she could do as she felt her body slip back into the dark hole she once climbed out of with her bare hands as they bled from the journey, the dark hole she had hoped she left behind her in the four walls of her old family home as her parents ignored her while she begged them to pay attention to her. Metaphorically speaking she felt like a lamb, being cornered by a pack of hungry wolves. Yet, in reality the wolves were her troubles and goddamn it she was sick of being the lamb. Nonetheless she still tried, she kept clinging on to the glimmer of hope for a better future until her hands; tired from the climb let go of the rope falling backwards in time. Falling to the darkness as if it were her the warm embrace her mother never bothered to give. Backwards she fell and harder she clung to the rope. The rope being the happy life she desperately wanted more than anything, the rope being the feeling of love she craved deeply. The rope was everything she could never have. 

However, the rope started to snap after a while, it tore the moment laid eyes on Erica Hahn, she had been forced to work with her on multiple surgeries within a week, and it just so happened to be the week she started to hate herself even more. The week she wished she just blended in like her father told her to for once, instead she found herself captivated by this woman, a woman. Something that was completely against her religion, but so was drinking and she did that daily now. She was just sick to death of being different. And now well, she was crushing on Erica. It wasn’t that she was against it, no, she supported the LGBT+ movement wholeheartedly but she knew her parents wouldn’t support her. That week her mind flooded with all the memories she had of her parents both glaring and scowling at the television every time an advertisement came on including two women loving each other or two men. 

The week was living hell, and so was the first kiss the two shared. Normally you would have thought she would have been happy that she got to kiss her crush but that wasn’t the case at all. Her self-hatred and insecurities only grew bigger that day. Kisses usually bring joy and make your eyes glimmer with happiness and delight but hers sunk further and nothing but sadness filled her dark brown orbs. She hid it well, just like she hid it well when Erica disappeared into thin air. She hid it just like she did with George, after all it was her fault, it always was. She wasn’t good enough, never was, never will be. The months after Erica left passed by quickly although back then every day dragged, Callie found it hard to do the bare minimum, even showering was a task; there were days she would go into work with hair sprayed with dry shampoo after not having the energy to wash it before her shift. There were days when she didn’t eat at all which caused a certain red-haired woman to curse at her and physically drag her to the cafeteria and she wouldn’t leave until she had witnessed the Latina eat and drink something. Callie was secretly grateful for Addison even though she glared at her every time the red head did something nice for her. It helped, knowing that even though she felt as sad as she did  that, she still had someone who cared, who actually cared. 

Then she left, the circumstance only made Callie laugh bitterly the more she thought back on it, Addison left her after she said she would be there, well she was there for a little then she wasn’t, she was there one day then she left. And slowly the sadness filled her bones completely, like a toxic disease that attacked her from the inside out. Callie didn’t blame her though; she couldn’t blame her. Addison left to make a new life for herself at her best friend's practice she left because she couldn’t stay anymore which ironically is what Callie wishes she did, she wishes she left after Addison and started somewhere fresh. But then she would just be sad in a new place it wouldn't have changed anything. The days after her friend left became hazy, looking back on it she can't remember much. Only the bad times that came after, she remembers breaking down completely, tearing at her clothes clawing at the material as she wished it was her own flesh falling from her saddened skeleton. She remembers falling apart in the storage closet on the third floor of the hospital as putting on a happy mask became too much to handle. She remembers gasping for air as she sat fully clothed under her shower trying to control her anxiety attack, praying for life as she knew it to stop, she remembers throwing every single glass she owned against the wall in a fit of rage. Watching as the glass shattered, wishing she could control the number of feelings that bubbled in her stomach and flowed through her blood stream. She wishes she didn’t remember though. That was one of her problems, she remembers it all. 

Then she started sleeping with the one and only Mark Sloan, the surgeon who had the reputation of being a man whore that only cared about getting in women’s pants. She didn’t care, after everything she had been through, she was happy to have some relief, god she got some relief. It was different with mark though, when she laid in his arms after one of many hours of needed relief, she could tell he had been hurt to. The way he clung to her like he was afraid of her leaving indicated that what she thought was true, but it was just sex. The pair of them knew that. He helped her though, more than he knew at first. They became close, he held her when her anger became too much to handle and her fists pounded against his chest like he was her punching bag, he held her when she couldn’t move from the bathroom floor as her lungs heaved and eyes stung, he held her tight and unlike anyone else he didn’t try and fix her. Just like she did for him, she held him as he told her about the way he loved Addison and how it hurt him when she left him for Derek, she held him as he finally cried in front of her after coming forward about the baby, he wishes he had the chance to meet. They held each other. Then it wasn’t just sex. Then it was communication; angry, sad, happy, frustrated. They took it out on each other, then they cried or drank or just laid in each other's arms until they were ready to tell one another what was bothering them. He became her person, and she became one of his. It was strange, what they had. Nobody understood it and if they tried to explain they would be told it was dysfunctional. It was, but it was also good. They were good for  each other . 

Mark made Callie believe that there was still good in the world, he started slow. Whether that was by taking her out to a bar to dance every Thursday or bringing her a sandwich after a long surgery, he made her believe. But he was also stubborn and realistic, he was the bane of her existence but also the saviour she had wished so greatly for. He annoyed her, he made her laugh, made her smile and sometimes... Rarely though made her cry. She was lucky to have him, he didn’t ignore her feelings like other people had, instead he was patient. He held her hand as he dragged her to her first therapy session after she had agreed to go the night before. He held her afterwards as she cried in a on call room. He helped her, he knocked her walls down and built her up. Platonically speaking he was her soulmate and she was his. Callie did the same for mark though too, she helped him through breakups and helped him move into his own apartment, which conveniently was opposite her own. She helped him cut back on the drinking after he oh so tearfully told her how he was scared to end up like his father who had suffered from liver failure from drinking. She knew mark didn’t have a problem but unlike anyone else she didn’t shut him down. She listened like he listened. And she helped like he helped, they were the worst parts of each other and the best. They were good and bad, they just were. 

Her life did somehow get better as her and mark became friends, she was more hopeful, but she did still suffer a lot. She wasn’t able to forget her past but instead of letting it destroy her she pushed forward and carried it on her shoulders every day, little by little the weights got lighter each time she pushed back. Every time she cried; she did get back up. Eventually. Then one-night her dark brown eyes met light blue ones and soft lips pressed against hers in the dimly lit bathroom at Joe’s bar, and she stood frozen. Unable to move, even after the girl with blonde hair left her standing utterly confused against the sink, she couldn’t move. She felt her world tumble around her, this time it was different though, she could feel it. She wanted to run and hide, the blonde beauty was going to be the death of her, she was going to ruin her. She was, and for some reason as days passed, she couldn’t get the blonde off of her mind. Callie wishes she did though. She wishes she didn’t go after her, because she was right and now, she curses those soft lips, she curses those blue eyes. She curses... Arizona Robbins and her pretty face and haunted lies. 

The blonde became the love of her life, quite quickly. She found herself needing her prescribed ‘happy pills’ a lot less the more she fell for the blonde, she didn’t realise back then though that she was heading into a slow-motion suicide, the love that would well and truly ruin her beyond repair. But back then they worked, and Callie was happy. Arizona made the fake smile disappear from her face altogether and in its place became a real one, she broke down Callie’s walls expertly, rebuilding them with peppermint kisses, fire side cuddles and broken promises. She plastered her up with a love the Latina longed for. The kind of love that Callie thought never existed. And as time passed Arizona became her home, you see it was when she started dating the blonde that she realized home wasn’t a place, instead it could be anything and anyone; for her, home was wherever the  blonde was. Home was forehead kisses and back rubs, home was laughter and shared bubble baths on rainy days, home was shared glances in the corridor. She was home. 

Callie became attached to Arizona rather quickly, maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe. You see when her father had decided to abandon her for loving girl's half of her cared and this was the half of her that slipped back into darkness even if it was momentarily, half of her was back in the dark clinging onto the rope once again for the happiness, and then, the other half didn’t care, she still had Arizona. She had the love of her life and now she had her home. She had a home. She had the warm embrace she craved, she had everything she wanted and her life was as complete as it could be. Her mind was split in two, so she cried for the loss of her father, she cried as she cut her father out of her life, she cried for herself and the pain that losing her father caused her. Then she stopped, she stopped crying and she was grateful, more weights lifted from her tired shoulders and she was happy still. Possibly because she was blinded by the sweet smell of cinnamon and vanilla to truly register the fact that she had lost her family. Even though her parents never shown her affection she knew her father loved her, but he left. And she had Arizona. So, in her mind the blonde made up for the loss. 

Then, well Africa happened. The job offer that caused the screaming match in the airport, the job offer that took away her home, the job  offer that in her mind still caused all the troubles that laid ahead for them. The plane took off and she was yet again, alone. She had mark though, but that was also a problem, her girlfriend left her and Lexie left mark, so then they found each other, Mark once again held Callie as her mind fogged in darkness, the same darkness that controlled her so powerfully all those years ago. This time it felt like the end, it was the end. Because she left. Granted, she pulled away from Arizona first but her life was here in Seattle, she was 'happy' in Seattle. Starting to be happy anyway. She had a job in Seattle it was her dream job but Africa was clearly Arizona's dream. Who was she to stop her girlfriend from chasing her dreams, she didn’t fight it, she let her go, she let her live her  dream. And those walls Arizona broke down built back up, her happy eyes dulled.  So, she found comfort in Marks arms once again, in his bed. His stupid bed and his stupid friendly arms. 

Weeks turned into months, she had picked up her broken heart from the floor and shoved it back in her sorrow filled Corpse, she would say body, because she wasn’t actually dead but she felt it. Then her life brightened, not in the most convenient way. But, one day, her body housed another, another line appeared on the stick and a heart began to beat beside her own. Something she had always wanted; she had always wanted to become a mother. Now she was one, she was happy, excited. Then her home returned, Arizona returned for her. Returned from following her dreams for her. Begging her for a second chance to fix things, begging until Callie caved, begging still, until she regretted asking for a second chance the moment Callie said yes to the blonde' s request for just one more chance. Regretting asking for that chance as soon as Callie told her that she was carrying a life, a life she had created with mark. But the blonde pushed and pushed until Callie caved again. Despite part of her telling her it was a bad idea to let the blonde back in. She gave her a second chance, and it was good. Their house became a home once again, it was warm and cosy, full of excitement, with a little hesitation from Arizona, but it worked. The three of them worked, until her life turned upside down and her world went black. The last words she could remember before nothing. ‘ ** Marry me ** ’. Then she was gone, then she was in pain. Maybe she deserved it. This was karma, her karma for hurting everyone she touched. Karma for everything. 

The car crashed and her soul left her body, she watched as the blonde screamed over her body, she watched as mark screamed at everyone, she screamed but nobody heard. She just watched. Helplessly as her body became a carvery, her colleagues slicing into her like she was a piece of ham on thanksgiving, she watched as crimson blood flowed from her body, she watched as her child birthed. She watched from above, unable to control anything. She watched as the three people she loved so deeply carried on without her, evidently, they didn’t want to. But it didn’t make it any easier, they could carry on without her. If they had to. Her baby was doing just fine without her, she was alive and being cared for and Arizona and Mark were getting along for once. Maybe, it would have been better if She hadn't of woken up. She listened as people who had never spoken to her before cried beside her lifeless body, she watched as people who once ridiculed her squeezed her hand and begged her to come back. And then she woke, automatically mumbling a ‘ ** yes ill marry you’  ** to Arizona’s proposal. She woke up and life carried on, her life carried on. She woke up and survived, trying to forget about the part of her that died in the crash, trying to ignore the pain she felt deep down as she cradled her baby, as she kissed her newlywed wife on the lips on their wedding day. The deep sadness she still felt as her father appeared on the dance floor after cutting off contact with her for a while. She was still sad,  but, she was still happy. She was happy. She was happy as a small fist wrapped around her finger and slept, she smiled, yet the sadness still loomed around like a bad smell. 

The plane crashed, her car crashed and then the plane crashed. And there she was, once again. Reaching for the rope that never appeared again, because the plane crashed. It crashed and so did her world, it crashed and mark died. Mark died and Arizona lost her leg. The day she found out was the day her heart officially stopped beating, the day her hopes withered and dreams crashed around her, sadness consuming her like a tornado. Because everything died that day. She lost her person, she lost the only person that knew who she was deep down, the only person that understood her. She lost her girlfriend, somewhere in the plane crash she lost Arizona. The moment Alex cut off the blondes leg she knew it was the end. It was the end. It crashed and her world burnt around her. Everything crashed. Her home was gone and mark died. She couldn’t grieve though, she had to be strong because it was her fault Arizona wouldn’t dare to look at herself in the mirror, it was her fault that Sofia had to grow up without a father, somehow it was her fault. She knew that. But she wasn’t on the plane crash, Arizona told her as much. She wasn’t on the plane crash so she couldn’t grieve, she wasn’t in the crash, she didn’t hear anything, see anything. She lost something though. It was her fault that night as well, the night that she had had enough. The night she crumbled as she held Arizona against the shower wall while water fell over their bodies, chests heaving. She crumbled, and she screamed, she cried and she broke. She regretted it, because she wasn’t on the plane when it crashed. But she cried then, in the moment. She lost her best friend and she lost her girlfriend. She lost her again months later. 

After months of struggling Callie knew it was over, she was trying. So was Arizona, they were both trying but failing. They knew that. Deep down. After weeks of trying, weeks of arguing, weeks of fighting over stupid things it was over. Callie’s life was over as soon as she made the decision to walk over to her wife who stood at the nurse's station talking to another blonde. It was the glittering that caught her eye and forced her to gaze over at Lauren, realization hitting her like a truck as her eyes locked with the diamond ring that was pinned upon Laurens scrub top, the ring Callie had given Arizona as a promise. For better and for worse. In sickness and in health. Then she asked the question she didn’t even want the answer to. She knew the answer before either of the blondes answered. Once again, Arizona left her. But not for a job offer. This time it was because of a woman, a woman she hardly knew. In that moment her heart tore in half and the moment she found out about George cheating on her came flooding back. She was in that moment once again, again. She wasn’t good enough; she wasn’t blonde and perky. Once again. She wasn’t Izzie Steven's last time, but this time she wasn’t Lauren. 

Callie fled seconds later, leaving her heart on the floor of the hospital she ran. She ran as loneliness crept into her body.  A deep loneliness, it was like death, maybe death would have been better than this slow form of torture that wrapped around her ribcage like the Ivy that grew up her apartment complex, squeezing her lungs. Starving her from oxygen. At least death would be quicker than this, finally she would be at peace. But no, she wasn’t and she couldn’t be at peace because she was at war. She had a daughter to care for, so as her legs carried her out of the hospital she tried. She tried to think of Sofia, but she couldn’t. Her mind blanked as she typed a message to Meredith, begging her to have Sofia for the night. She couldn’t breathe. As a message popped up on her phone from Meredith agreeing to look after the youngster Callie ran. She couldn’t take any more of this feeling, the emptiness, the solitude, deep loneliness and the pain. The memories of happiness and pure bliss seemed like a distant memory, happy faces, full hearts and hopeful eyes were in the past, and the present was dark, hopeless, sad and her heart was broken. Because she wasn’t the one her wife found comfort in. All she felt was grief, pain and sadness, but she wasn’t just feeling sad, in fact. She was sure she had become it. 

Callie ran, she ran until she hid safely behind the closed doors of her apartment, then she crumbled. She collapsed against the door and inhaled a shaky breath. She clutched at the floor for something, anything to hold onto as she leant forward. Tears springing from her eyes, she let out a loud heart-breaking scream, letting go of the mask she had held up for too long. As her body shook and fists pounded against her own legs she let go. She finally grieved, grieved for Mark, she grieved for Arizona, for George, for her father. For herself. She gripped her hand around her mobile phone and launched it over at the wall. She knew this would ruin her, but that was then. And this was now. She hiccupped on a sob as the memories of how Mark held her while she cried all those years ago overwhelmed her, the memories caused her to cry harder – she cried for herself, and as salty tears stung her cheeks, she cried harder. Her face turning red as she inhaled and exhaled too quickly, teasing her lungs with the oxygen they lacked. This really was a slow-motion suicide. She felt like she was a sinking ship that was burning. Burning in a pain that was too deep to swim in, she couldn’t stay afloat. She didn’t know if she even wanted to. “Dammit! Dammit!” she screamed aloud, pain coming from her throat, it felt like she had swallowed a thousand razor blades; but this was just what heart break felt like. It wasn’t just her heart that broke this time, it was her spirit. She just wanted someone to stay, someone to keep a promise and not break it like she meant nothing. Because now, here. As she laid clinging onto her legs crying on the floor, completely broken. She was alone, she was well and truly alone. 

She didn’t want to hurt anymore, she didn’t want to but she was, she is. She was broken on the floor, with nobody around to hold her. Her arms wrapped around her legs as she continued to cry, sobbing aloud, praying to a god she didn’t believe in anymore for it to stop, just like she did years ago. She was here again, begging and pleading for life to stop. But her pleads were unnoticed, so she cried harder. Anger mixing into her sorrow as she raised her fist, slamming it down on the floor like a hammer to a nail. She screamed again, and again, only making more tears stream down her tender heartbroken face as all hope she had slipped away, just like George and Arizona did. She just wanted someone to stay, to stay for good. Forever. 

Callie's body trembled and her hands shook, slowly it dawned on her, that maybe, this time it wasn’t her fault. As all dreams of happiness left her thoughts and her rope finally snapped, she knew, in her broken heart she didn’t cause this. For all of the things that she had done, and all the things she had blamed herself for. It was possible, that she wasn’t to blame for this. But nothing could fix it now, she was broken beyond repair, and sorrow that once left her bones settled there once again. This time she knew... It was here to stay. She continued to cry to herself, shielding her face away from the world, arms clutching around her legs – protecting what was left of her heart as she laid there, at the bottom of the dark hole she had once climbed out of. 

Completely, and utterly broken. Once again. 


End file.
